CHAPTER 52: PURGE PROTOCOL IS SUGGESTED

[550 years of lifespan deducted.]

[Total Remaining Lifespan: 1023 / 3000 Years]

[PURGE PROTOCOL IS SUGGESTED]

Seeing the message appear again, Xiao Ning’s eyes grew cold.

Without a word, he activated his Paradox Meridians.

A faint ripple of power pulsed within his soul, and the Codex’s presence was instantly suppressed—its glowing characters dimmed to silence.

He let out a slow breath and narrowed his gaze.

Just because the Codex had spoken with conviction didn’t mean it was right. Or that it was telling him everything.

He had long known that the artifact had its own goals. It had never denied it—only insisted that its path stood apart from the Grand Dao. But "apart" did not mean "aligned" with his own.

There was no need to place blind faith in anything. Especially not a tool forged for war against the heavens.

"Purge protocol... is it?" he muttered. "And what if it’s not the only way?"

Even if everything the Codex said was true—even if that sliver of the Ninth Asura Paragon truly lurked within his avatar—even if his body had been refined to become a perfect vessel...

So what?

Just because the Codex claimed something didn’t make it absolute truth.

He wasn’t that naïve.

After all, this so-called Codex had its own origins, its own motives. From the moment it had offered him a second life, he had known: there would be a price.

And that price might not always align with his own benefit.

The Codex had said the purge was the only option, but perhaps that only meant it was the only option for it.

Xiao Ning’s eyes flashed with disdain, he was no ordinary cultivator.

He was Xiao Ning—the Yin Yang Devil Monarch of the Inner Realms, a rogue cultivator who had climbed his way up from obscurity. Who had refined himself step by step, clawing for power in a world that never spared the weak.

He had never relied on legacy or inheritance, he had built his own cultivation from fragments and scraps, and forced the heavens to acknowledge him through sheer will.

Who had—on his own—taken a mere mundane-rank inheritance and elevated it.

That’s right.

The Yin Yang Mirror Scripture—now a feared and a famous scripture only one step short of the Immortal Crossing Realm—had originally been a fragment. An incomplete scroll left to rot in a minor sect’s ruins.

Back then, it was barely worth a Foundation Establishment cultivator’s time, it was riddled with contradictions and limitations.

Everyone who touched it saw it as a trap. A spiritual dead end.

But he had cultivated it anyway.

He had refined it over decades. Layer by layer, he had carved a path through its blind spots, corrected its flows, deepened its truths.

He was the one who pushed it past its limits.

He had turned a forgotten remnant into a scripture only one step short of the Immortal Crossing.

Back then, no one had believed he could make it work.

And yet, what was the result?

Even Meng Qingxuan, a favored scion of the orthodox sects and a Heaven-blessed genius, had only barely surpassed him in the end—and only because he’d managed to take half a step into the Immortal Crossing Realm using a legacy artifact.

Xiao Ning had built everything with his own two hands, if that wasn’t enough proof of his ability to defy fate, then what was?

***

Inside a quiet chamber above the main hall, two figures stood before a tall window, their gazes lowered to the courtyard below.

One wore a violet robe embroidered with a silver lotus, standing beside her was a slightly younger woman dressed in white and blue robes.

"Senior Sister Mei Lin," Shi Ling finally said, breaking the silence, "why summon all the elders and disciples without explanation?"

Mei Lin didn’t reply immediately. Her gaze swept across the outer courtyard, where streams of cultivators continued to arrive. Some rode spirit cranes and talismans, others flew by foot using flight techniques, while younger disciples came in clusters, murmuring quietly amongst themselves.

After a while, she spoke in a soft tone. "I cannot offer details... but I believe today will mark a turning point for the sect."

Shi Ling frowned slightly. "It involves the Sect Master?"

Mei Lin gave a faint nod. "He has returned."

Shi Ling’s expression changed. "You’re certain?"

"I met him two days ago."

Shi Ling’s brows drew together. "No word of this has spread."

"He wished it that way," Mei Lin said simply. "But now, he intends to reveal himself."

Shi Ling remained silent, but the light in her eyes grew more solemn.

Within the main hall, the atmosphere was unusually tense.

Rows of Foundation Establishment disciples had already filled the lower level, standing in strict formation. Along the side platforms, Core Formation elders sat cross-legged, many with closed eyes as they waited quietly.

Toward the rear of the hall, three Nascent Soul Elders occupied elevated thrones, though they too wore uncertain expressions.

Whispers passed quietly among the younger cultivators.

"Did something happen?"

"No one’s saying anything. Elder Mei Lin just told everyone to gather, and that it was urgent."

"Look around. Even Elder Shi Ling and the other Nascent Soul Elders are here... something major is coming."

"Maybe... the Sect Master has returned?"

"Impossible. Wasn’t he rumored to have perished?"

"Even so, why call everyone back unless—?"

Before the words were finished, a change swept through the air.

It was subtle—no violent surge of spiritual pressure, no blinding light—but all at once, a peculiar stillness descended upon the hall.

As if space had quietly shifted.

Then, without fanfare, a figure stood in the center of the hall.

There had been no fluctuation of Qi, no sound of footsteps or spatial rupture—yet a tall man in black robes now stood there.

"S-Sect Master!"

Someone gasped, breaking the silence.

"He’s really back..."

"Not even the Nascent Soul Elders sensed his arrival..."

Even the most composed among the seated elders stirred uneasily. Several slowly stood up, cupping their fists in silent greeting.

Xiao Ning swept his gaze across the crowd with a calm expression.

"I see many familiar faces, it seems I’ve kept you all waiting."

His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly through the hall.

"I know what many of you are thinking. During the sect’s darkest days, where was your Sect Master?"

His tone remained calm, but an unmistakable weight lingered in each sentence.

"You suspect I fled. That I abandoned my position."

He gave a faint smile, unreadable in meaning. "Perhaps those doubts are not without reason."

Several disciples looked down. Even a few Core Formation elders shifted uncomfortably.

Then, without warning, Xiao Ning raised his sleeve.

Five beams of light shot upward and hovered in the air, each forming into a sealed spirit bottle.

Inside each was a single pill, no larger than a grain of rice—yet even at a glance, the power within them could be felt clearly.

A faint Yin-Yang glow swirled around the pill in the foremost bottle.

The moment it was revealed, the spiritual energy in the air seemed to stir, even the Nascent Soul Elders narrowed their eyes.

Xiao Ning flicked his fingers. The seal on one bottle dissolved, and the pill within floated out.

It glowed with black and white radiance, revolving slowly like a miniature Dao diagram.

"What kind of pill is that?"

"I’ve never felt spiritual Qi so pure from a single object..."

Xiao Ning’s next words stunned everyone.

"This pill is something similar to the Nascent Formation Pill."

He let the pill drift a little higher. "But this pill does not increase your chances of breaking through. It guarantees a breakthrough to the Nascent Soul Realm."

"W-what?!"

"He said guarantee?!"

"No way. That’s impossible!"

The crowd erupted. Even Nascent Soul cultivators exchanged uncertain looks.

Xiao Ning ignored the noise and continued.

"You all know the standard Nascent Formation Pills—at best, they grant a twenty percent chance of success. And that’s assuming the highest grade, refined by a peak Rank Four alchemist."

"But these pills are not of that kind. Each one forcibly opens the door to the Nascent Soul Realm."

"Even someone who has stalled for decades at Core Formation—so long as their foundation is intact—can step forward."

More gasps echoed through the hall.

"Where did he obtain such a pill?"

"Even the Azure Dragon Sect wouldn’t dare claim to have something like this..."

Xiao Ning’s eyes swept across the crowd—calm, yet impossible to read.

"These pills did not fall from the heavens, they are not a gift, nor a miracle."

"The Shadowclaw Sect is in a grave situation. Two of our Nascent Soul Elders perished not long ago."

A murmur of shock spread, but no one dared speak aloud.

"And we have no one to replace them."

"The righteous sect alliance has begun to eye our territories with malice. Already, border outposts have gone silent. Trade routes are being choked, and this just the beginning."

"Do you think I could sit idle through all this?"